The Aftermath
by MissLindaLee
Summary: Dean lands himself in jail after committing a horrific crime – and there’s nothing Sam can do to help.


_Author's Notes: This was a challenge by bewizeto enter a summer contest to write a Supernatural one-shot for spn50states. Well, I got the state I wanted, so I wrote the story today at work in my free time. Anywho, here is the finished product, and I hope you guys enjoy it._

- - - -

Sam looked through the two-way mirror, standing with a Biddeford, Maine, detective, watching another detective circling the table where his brother sat. Dean stared straight ahead, looking cool and unimpressed by the detective's threats of serious jail time, but Sam knew that Dean was just masking his fear he knew they both knew Dean was in serious trouble.

And there was nothing Sam could do.

"You don't have to be here, you know," the detective, Richard Malloy, said.

Sam stared straight ahead, watching his brother. "Yes, I do," he replied softly. "He's my brother."

"Do you have any idea what would make him do something so horrific?" Malloy asked.

Sam shook his head. "No, I don't," he replied softly. "I mean, yeah, Dean's always been a little crazy, but …," he shook his head, "I honestly don't know what came over him." He glanced over at the detective. "How much trouble are we looking at?"

"He killed Norman," Malloy said. "Everyone in the town loved him." He shook his head. "You're lucky we don't string your brother up by his toes right now." Malloy nodded at the other detective. "I'm surprised they're letting Charlie do the investigation. He and Norman were pretty tight." Malloy shrugged as the two men turned and watched Dean and Charlie. "I guess if your brother chooses to cooperate, they might be looking at a lighter sentence."

"Dean's not going to be cooperative," Sam said. "He hates cops."

"Then I guess he's gonna be up the creek without a paddle," Malloy replied. "We may not be New York or Chicago or any of them big cities, but we still take crime very seriously around these parts, and we do everything in our power to see that criminals are prosecuted to the full extent of the law."

"I know," Sam replied quietly, watching as the interrogation began. He only hoped against hope that Dean would do the smart thing and not be his usual smarta-- self. He didn't want to stay in Biddeford – or any other city in Maine – any longer than he had to.

"Why did you do it?" Charlie asked as he stood behind Dean.

"Why'd I do what?" Dean snarked, grinning.

_So much for hoping_, Sam thought wryly.

"Don't play dumb with me, smarta--," Charlie said, leaning over. "We know you did it; we found you with the evidence. Question is why did you do it?"

"Look, I really think you're making a big deal over nothing," Dean replied. He was sick of being there, being treated like some two-bit criminal. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You killed Norman!" Charlie shouted. "I knew him for five years! He was gentle and never did anything to anyone, and then you came along and …." He shook his head as he trailed off, too disgusted to finish his sentence.

"Dude, you are seriously messed up," Dean asked.

"I've seen your record, Dean," Charlie said. "The credit cards and the fake ideas and all the mail fraud charges … I know about the murders in St. Louis and the bank robbery in Milwaukee. Well, you can add Norman to your list of victims."

"Dude deserved what he had coming to him," Dean replied calmly, getting very annoyed by the detective and wondering where his brother was. He fidgeted in his seat, trying to keep his cool.

"What did he ever do to you?" Charlie asked. "Nothing. You hadn't even heard about him until you came to our town two -"

"Correction," Dean interrupted. "I actually knew about good old Norman last week. Why do you think me and my brother came to your sorry a town in the first place?"

"So, you're admitting it was premeditated?" Charlie asked.

"I can't believe this is happening!" Dean shouted, standing up. "You're making way too big a freakin' deal over this thing!"

"Sit down!" Charlie demanded, grabbing Dean's shoulder and pushing the young man back into his seat. "Now, tell me what happened – or I will charge your brother with aiding and abetting."

"Hey!" Sam said, frowning at Malloy. "You said I wasn't going to be charged!"

"You're not," Malloy replied. "It's just a scare tactic Charlie likes to use. We know your brother won't let you go down with him."

"Good," Sam said, looking relieved, "because I had nothing to do with this. I honestly thought I could talk him out of doing it."

"I know," Malloy replied, "but you should have called us, son. Maybe we could have stopped this tragedy from happening."

"Sammy had nothing to do this!" Dean said angrily. "It was all my idea!"

"Then prove it," Charlie said, sitting down on the other side of the table and facing Dean. "Tell me what happened."

Dean sighed, frustrated, knowing there was no way to keep his brother out unless he confessed. "Fine," he said. "We came to town two days ago. Sammy had been spending the week trying to convince me to not go through with this, but I had to. I had to get Norman."

"Why?" Charlie asked.

"Because I had to see if I could do it," Dean replied. "So, anyway, I tracked Norman down to the aquarium and kept an eye on him for a couple days; Sammy was only with me to try to talk me out of it, but I'm a stubborn son of a b----, and I wasn't listening."

"When did you kidnap Norman?" Charlie asked.

"Last night," Dean replied. He shrugged. "Wasn't that hard, really."

"What did you do after that?" Charlie asked.

"Did what any self-respecting person would do," Dean replied. "Took him back to my motel room," and he looked up, smirking, "and I boiled and ate him."

"You sick b------," Charlie growled.

"Oh, come on!" Dean exploded. "It was a d--- lobster!"

"He was our town mascot!" Charlie shouted. "And you killed him!"

"And I'd do it again in a heartbeat!" Dean said, getting to his feet. "He was a freakin' twenty-two pound lobster! I'd get another bowl of melted butter and suck the meat from his claws and enjoy every finger licking moment!" He headed for the door, intending to leave, but Charlie grabbed his arm. Dean whirled around and punched the detective full in the face; the detective stumbled back, and the two men started fighting.

Sam stared, stunned by his brother's outburst as he fought with the detective. Malloy hurried from the viewing room into the interrogation, where he helped Charlie wrestle Dean to the ground. A couple more officers came into the interrogation room, helping the detectives hold Dean down while one of them cuffed him. Sam watched as his brother was led away, shouting obscenities; Malloy returned a few seconds later, looking winded.

"Now what?" Sam asked.

"He'll be in lockup until his trial," Malloy replied. "If I were you, I'd get him a good lawyer – he's gonna need it." He turned and left.

Sam stood there, trying to process everything. His brother was facing some serious charges … and Sam didn't think there was a way he could beat them. He sighed and rubbed his face tiredly, hoping he would just wake up and it'd be a bad dream, but he knew it wasn't; this was real … and Dean was screwed. The hunter reflexively put his hands in his jacket pockets, and he tilted his head, feeling something metallic; he suddenly grinned, remembering what they were – the keys to the Impala.

Maybe things weren't quite that bad after all.

THE END

_Author's Note: I didn't want to put this in the beginning, because it would spoil the surprise. I was already writing a story that took place in Maine, so I didn't want to copy the idea. I decided to do something funny related to the state, and I remember hearing a story about Bubba the Lobster, who weighed in at twenty-two pounds before he died in March, 2005; there was also a big media thing about him a few years back. Anywho, everyone I talked to said the first thing that they thought of when I mentioned Maine was lobster. Combined with Dean's love of food … this was just too tempting not to write. grins_


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